The low shine of light
by phoenixwriter
Summary: Harry is back in Privet Drive 4. He is still suffering because of Sirius dead but this will change very soon. Someone else will be his worry. What happened that Hermione turns up in the middle of the night at the Privet Drive? chapter 1 is betaed now.
1. Default Chapter

Authornote: First I would like to thank perivayne. For her assistance to this chapter. I love what you did. This is probably the start of a novel-length story. Which will maybe have a sequel. I have it all in my head. So I let it start.  The Low Shine of Light

Chapter One – The First Victims 

Time passed slowly as Harry lay sprawled on his bed with his arms beneath his head and stared at the shifting of light and shadow along the walls on the smallest bedroom in Number 4, Privet Drive; his bedroom. Better to call it his prison cell. The bands of light were blurry because his glasses were on the bedside table. 

Nearly two weeks had passed since Harry left King's Cross to return back to his relative's house, which was so far away from the Wizarding World. Here, isolated in his room from his now-solicitous relatives, he relived the events in the Department of Mysteries. Every time he closed his green eyes, Harry saw a familiar face set in a surprised, almost frightened expression. Sirius's laughing voice dying away as he slowly falls backward through the veiled archway.

As the silence of night wore on, more images and sounds from his recent past echoed through his thoughts. Here in the Privet Drive, he did not attract misadventures as he did at Hogwarts. Here, deprived off the right to use his magic, Harry felt horribly powerless and vulnerable.

His fifth year at Hogwarts had been the worst year in his entire life. Though Harry loved Hogwarts for many reasons including being able to get away from the Dursleys, he now felt torn; longing to be back at school while also strangely reluctant to return.

During his more rational moments of grief, Harry knew that Voldemort was truly the only one guilty for the tragedies that had occurred. Voldemort had murdered Harry's parents, who had actively worked against the Dark Lord's forces. Murdered them because of an incomplete prophecy about a wizard boy born in the end of July. Harry survived the Dark Lord's attack with only a lightning bolt scar on his forehead while Voldemort's rebounded spell reduced him to a mere shadow. 

He had also murdered Cedric, a brilliant and well-trained young wizard during the Tri-Wizard tournament during Harry's fourth year simply because Cedric had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Indeed, it was Harry's blood used in the spell to restore the dark wizard back to his powers after 14 years of relative peace for the rest of the Wizarding World. Harry was sure that in Voldemort's hidden lair, the Dark Lord was currently busy plotting Harry's demise.

But when his thoughts made their inevitable circle, Harry still despaired over the deeply rooted feeling that he, Harry Potter, was as much to blame for the deaths around him as Voldemort.

Wearily, the young man closed his eyes to try to sleep. The previous week had passed without Harry being able to find any uninterrupted rest. Always, the dreams would wake him, shaking and nauseated, after only an hour or two. In desperation Harry had taken to exhausting himself as much as possible to avoid the dreams, but still the dreams found him night after night.

His depressed thoughts also led him back to the prophecy and his seemingly inescapable fate.

Harry opened his eyes again and stared at the ceiling while in the back of his mind a small voice kept asking, "Why me? Why didn't he choose Neville? I don't want this, let somebody else take my place…. why can't I be someone, anyone else than Harry Potter?"

Sighing, Harry turned toward the wall and pulled his numb and prickling arms down from beneath his head; he had remained in that position so long that his arms had fallen asleep. The pillow had gone flat so he punched it into a slightly puffier shape before lowering his head.  

To distract his mind from the self-pitying inner voice, he though about what small bits of innocuous news contained in the letters that his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, had just sent. 

Ron was excited to help out his older twin brothers Fred and George Weasley in their new wizarding novelties shop. Business had been excellent in the Diagon Alley location, and Ron was making a decent income minding the store. Mrs Weasley was quite concerned over their safety, but with no further news of attacks or movement from Voldemort and his followers, she had relaxed a bit about Ron working there. His red-haired friend closed with a hope that his mother would convince Dumbeldore to permit Harry to visit before the end of the holidays.

Hermione had inquired about how Harry was feeling, and stated that what happened at the Ministry wasn't Harry's fault. She also was anxious to get her OWL scores and wanted Harry to owl her with his results the moment he got them. Unlike Ron, however, she had been scouring all wizarding and muggle papers and news broadcasts for anything unusual, but the summer so far had been remarkably quiet. 

The voice trailed away after a few moments as sleep finally stole over his troubled mind. Even as he dozed, Harry knew the rare peace and stillness would not last long.

Darkness, silent and encompassing, swallowed any dreams that seemed would have come. Slowly, stars began to emerge from the abyss, followed by a comfortable coolness that surrounded him. Shadowy shapes formed out the darkness below him and Harry knew suddenly that he was hovering in the air. The amorphous shapes became recognizable as roofs of houses many feet below his point of view.

The homes were comfortably large and arranged similar to Privet Drive, but one home stood out to Harry. It seemed to be a muggle home with a too small chimney, cheery planted flowerbeds, electric lighting and winding walkway to the street. An incredibly powerful chill swept through Harry as he recognized the flash of magical green light spilling like lightning from the home's windows.

His point of view lowered slowly until he looked through the large front windows into what seemed to be the front parlor of the home. Four people stood in the room, a couple in muggle clothing huddled against the far wall; two dark cloaked individuals stood opposite the couple, their wands pointing toward the man and woman.

As Harry concentrated on the scene, he suddenly was in the room behind the attackers. The dark wizard on Harry's right raised his wand and in a sibilant voice said, "_Crucio_."  The red beam shot out and held on the older man across the room. 

Horrified, Harry witnessed the man contort and writhe in agony, not screaming until he collapsed on the floor under the spell. The woman beside him cried out for the attacker to stop and tried to hold her companion.  Realizing the dark wizards to Death Eaters, the young man fruitlessly searched for his missing wand to stop the attack. 

Another voice screamed, "NO!" from Harry's left. The two Death Eaters turned to face the direction the cry had come from, breaking off their attack on the man. The young woman moved forward into a swath of light from the outside and Harry recognized her. It was Hermione.

She raised her wand as the Death Eaters chuckled with evil glee, raising their wands to curse her. All three spoke their incantations but Hermione finished her spell first. 

"_Expelliarmus!_" One Death Eater's wand shot from his hand, disrupting his spell. Hermione managed to duck the red beam of the other's attack. As she cast her next spell toward the remaining Death Eater, a strange globe of light absorbed the spell. He then Stunned Hermione as his companion retrieved his wand. Both turned back to the Muggle couple that Harry now recognized as Hermione's parents and raised their wands.

Hermione struggled to her feet, screaming in denial as the attackers began to mutter an incantation Harry couldn't quite place. Pulsating green light enveloped the Grangers, who both collapsed. Hermione found her wand and spun around to attack only to be caught in the spell cast by the Death Eaters.

"_Crucio_"

Hermione's screams echoed shrilly through Harry's mind as he fought to try and help his friend. The vision began to blur as Harry felt himself being pushed away. Evil laughter, distant, cold followed Harry into consciousness.

No, no, this can't be real…NO!"

Harry sat straight up, his scream still ringing in his ear. He panted as he listened to hear if he had disturbed the Dursley's, but no shout of indignation at being awoken came. As Harry swung his legs over to the floor and placed his head in his hands, he tried to calm himself.

"It can't be true, what I saw…The Order is watching over the Grangers. Voldemort was just trying to trick me again… He wants me to go outside…." He kept repeating sensible statements that he heard in his mind, spoken in Hermione's crisp, know-it-all tone.

Glancing at the alarm clock on the bedside table, he placed his glasses on so he could read the time. It was almost 4:21 am and the sun was starting to brighten the day in earnest. Harry sighed and just chalked it up as another night's sleep lost, and rose to dress for the day.

As he pulled on an old t-shirt over his head, Harry reflected on how isolated he felt here at Privet drive, separated from the magical world. Trying to tame his wild hair, the changes in his body due to proper feeding and exercise while he attended Hogwarts showed in the tight fit of the t-shirt across his shoulders and chest. Before, this old cast-off of Dudley's would have hung loose over his skinny frame. 

Harry tamed his hair into a semblance of order with effort, noticing that his scar seemed more prominent and redder than usual this morning. A distant squeal of car brakes drifted through his open window. Moving over to the window, he watched a bright red Vauxhall car turn into Privet Drive and headed up the roadway. From the way that the vehicle swerved from side to side, Harry suspected the driver might be ill or intoxicated. It continued toward Number 4, barely missing the post-box of Number 3 Privet Drive.

"What in the devil's name…?" Harry whispered, unbelieving, as the car came to a screeching halt halfway in Number 4's driveway. From his window, Harry couldn't see who the driver might be, so he hastily gathered his wand and headed downstairs to the front door. Careful not to make noise and wake any of the Dursleys, Harry crept to the door and cracked it open slightly, his wand at the ready, to see the strange vehicle and its driver. 

What he saw had him jerking open the door and running to the small form huddled on the grass with her head on her knees. That it might be a Death Eater trick didn't cross Harry's mind until he had almost reached her.

"Hermione! What are you doing here? What's happened?" Harry slowed his approach as he spoke, coming to stand a few feet away. Hermione lifted her tear-streaked face up to him and tried to speak but nothing came out, and she starting shaking visibly as Harry, his concern overcoming caution, flung himself onto his knees beside his friend.

Her clothes were torn in places, and bloody in others. Tears started streaming down her face as Harry gathered her under his arm and tried to soothe her. 

"Shh, you're safe now…."

Hermione found her voice at last, "Oh, Harry… they came for us…two of _them_…"

Harry's heart froze, the dream he'd had coming back with crystal clarity. Caution reasserted itself and Harry asked her quietly, "Hermione, what form does your Patronus take?"

Startled by Harry's question, Hermione stuttered a moment, then realization flashed across her pale face.

"My Patronus is an otter." Harry, closed his eyes, pain in his countenance, then he held her tighter as she sobbed against his chest. 

 "I'm sorry, Hermione –so sorry…" She cried for a few moments before attempting to try and tell him what had happened. Harry stopped her quickly.

"I saw the attack in my dream last night." Hermione leaned back against his hold to stare horrified at him. Harry's agony was visible in his eyes, and Hermione suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

"I couldn't do anything to save them…I just grabbed Crookshanks and jumped in the car…didn't even know if I could drive it …"

Harry smiled a bit at Hermione's response. Obviously there hadn't been a book handy to help her out in driving the car. A tired meow brought Harry's head up to see Crookshanks on the grass in front of them, looking back over his shoulder. As Harry focused on the cat, he headed off down Privet Drive a few meters, and then looked back at the pair. Looking past the cat, Harry saw the street sign pointing to Magnolia Crescent. Mrs Figg, of course!

"We need to contact the Order at once, Hermione. We've got to get to Mrs. Figg's, come on!" 

Still in shock, Hermione stood up shakily with Harry's assistance, and they headed toward Mrs. Figg's house. Harry found himself trying to go faster, but Hermione was slowly starting to recover a bit as they went, so he curbed his anxiety and moderated the pace for her benefit.

Time seemed to be flying past as the pair crossed into Magnolia Cresecent and headed to Mrs. Figg's home. Crookshanks trotted at their side, purring in encouragement for his mistress.

They reached the front door and Harry started pounding on the door when the doorbell didn't produce Mrs Figg quickly enough. Hermione stood at the bottom of the steps and clutched her cardigan tighter around her body. Her familiar sat at her feet and leaned against her leg, purring loudly. She seemed to be swaying on her feet, her eyes becoming glazed.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Harry let off on his knocking as he noticed the change in his friend. She focused with difficulty on him, and then said, "I can't anymore…anymore….the curse…"

Curse?!

Harry turned back to the door, frantic now. Hermione was in definite trouble and needed help.

"Mrs, Figg, open the door! It's Harry!"

The door lock rattled and then the door swung open.


	2. An unexpected visit

**Authorsnote: I have to apologise to you because this isn't betaed. You have to know my betareader is right now kinda busy. Homework and stuff. So I'm aware there are mistakes in this story. As fast as possible I hope my betareader will be able and try a look at this.   **

2. An unexpected visit.

"Mrs. Figg, open the door. Its Harry!" he shouted. After a few seconds the light was turned on and the door opened slowly.

Harry's mind started to work, what if they were to late…what if Mrs Figg couldn't help them? Before the door was complete opened, he saw back to Hermione who didn't say a word anymore. Surprised he saw that she had closed her eyes as if to shot out the world. Much more to shot out him, something what he saw never before by her. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly. 

"Harry, what are you doing here?" A tired old voice did bring him back to reality. A smell of cat's emerged into Harry's nose as he looked finely to Mrs. Figg, which stood there into her dressing-gown. She eyed him questioning than she looked at Hermione who was still standing in front of the stairs to the veranda. Held tensely on the handrail. "Did your uncle see your girlfriend? I can understand this you are a little bit to young for such things. The best way is if you go back and talk with him." She said tentatively while she was still eyeing both. "I, no we need your help, Mrs Figg. Listen, Hermione know who you are. We need to use your fireplace." Hastily he tried to make her understand the situation without to explain too much. 

Mrs. Figg's eyes were widening in shock and disbelieve. Probably she thought at this moment Harry was gone crazy. "The fireplace?" she whispered stunned. "Yeah, we have to Floo to Grimmauld place." Intensive he paused. If at least Hermione helped him, she could such things a lot better. "Please, let us in. We don't have enough time to explain." "But, you can't.." unexpected she stopped in the mid sentence and starred pass Harry. "Do what he say or I will force you. I promise you I mean It damn serious!" With an unusually harsh, nearly dangerous voice he heard Hermione. Surprised he looked to her. She pointed her wand directly at Mrs. Figg. This alone didn't made him really nervous but her look. Her look did nearly piercingly the old woman.

Hermione seemed to be ready to attack Mrs. Figg or worst to kill her if she didn't what she wanted. "Hermione, please!" Harry tired but in the meantime Mrs. Figg did step aside. The way was free now but Hermione didn't move. "What's got into you? You know very well you aren't allowed to use magic." Even in his own ears sounded this words stupid. Like at a snail's pace her wand sunk down. Harry saw how she lose her grip at the handrail and her knees started to gave in. He took one step and stood in front of her, holding her by the shoulders . It seemed she had still enough strength to stay on her legs. Without a word he lifted her into his arms and carried her slowly into the house. "Let me down, I can walk by myself!" she snapped. "No, you can't. You know you can't." He answered calmly. 

This feeling that she was angry at him turned back. Only he didn't know why she should. Maybe because he didn't came by his own that she wasn't well. That she overplayed the effect of the crucicatus curse more as he had thought. It seemed Harry didn't know Hermione well, at least not as well as he had thought. Only one thing he knew that he could always count at Hermione 1000 percent. That she would do everything for him. Break every rule on this planet if it did help him. Apart from that what he saw at school he did know almost nothing about her. "I'm sorry, Harry. But I was told that I shouldn't let you in. You know, because of the fact that nobody must know that I'm aware that you are a wizard."

"It's all right!" said Harry as he pass Mrs. Figg, who still looked at Hermione as if she would curse her into ashes. He entered with Hermione on his arms the living room. As he reached the couch he let her down "Are you sure you can travel per flow powder, Hermione? Tell me if you feel not well enough than I'll go alone." "Of course I can travel. I'm not dead." He looked with a warning blaze directly at her. "Don't say such things," he whispered, "I'll go first."

Without a second word he stepped in front of the fireplace and took a handful powder out of a bowl which stood on the mantelpiece. Once more he looked at Mrs Figg who was very quiet than his gaze did swift to Hermione who sat tired on the couch. This sight he didn't like, not at all like. 

The Fireplace was full ashes and did smell after burned wood because there was still a fire burning. It didn't surprise Harry that in a muggle house was such a big fireplace so that he could stand in it. Not after he got in his 5th year that Mrs Figg was a member of the order. He scattered the powder into the flames and stepped into the now green fire. "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!" He cried and he was spinning very fast. Tightly he had closed his eyes and mouth to well he remembered his first travel. It hadn't been a pleasure and this travel wasn't any better only he didn't hit his elbows on walls. Just as Harry thought he going to be sick he felt that this spinning stopped abruptly. He could barely defend himself to fall face forward. 

He had been arrived. The house was dark it seemed that everybody was sleeping something what was to expect by this time. Carefully Harry looked around as he stepped out of the fireplace. This was the first time since Sirius's dead that he was here. Half he expected that Sirius would burst into the kitchen and ask him what he does here in the middle of the night. But this wouldn't happen. He knew it wouldn't happen. Never before he was so aware of his lost, of Sirius dead. Maybe he had needed this, needed to be here and to recognise that his godfather wasn't alive. It was quiet, scary quiet as if to proof that there wasn't everything right. That it wasn't normal that in the middle of the night Hermione turned up at the Privet Drive.

God, he didn't want to think about her parents. Everytime his thoughts drifted to this piece of reality he felt as if something was reaching for his heart. Something very cold. Here was it as if everything was so very surreal. "How much time does she need?" He said in a low voice to himself. A loud bang and shortly after that there were a flicker of green flames announced her arriving. Hard she knocked into him. "I hate this!" she murmured as she held on him to steady herself. "You, too? I believe everybody have to be awake now." Silent creaking went through the dark house. Harry couldn't see really much only just some dark shadows. "Don't move, they might curse you." She told him urgently with a tight grip she hold on his arm. "Who is there?" shouted a masculine voice.

Just in this moment Mrs Black, the portrait of her, started to scream loud. "Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from the place-" The horrified scream stopped in the mid sentence as if someone had closed the curtains. The creaking grew louder. It did sound as if a dozen people were awake and heading down. To Harrys surprise the portraits remained quiet, this was extra ordinary. "Its me, Harry!" he shouted back. Again silence, a strange silence as if someone was watching them. Harry knew they were still in the entrance hall and that they needed pass a door. Till now he hadn't heard someone open the door. With another bang the light in the house turned on. It did hurt in the eyes because they weren't used by this.

Harry looked with narrowed eyes around only to see that someone was bursting into the kitchen. Just some foots away Harry could see Remus Lupin with a wand which was pointing at Hermione and him. Lupin looked tired and older as they saw him the last time. As if ten years did pass by. His face was close as he eyed them critical. "What are you doing here?" he asked with a horsed voice as in the meantime his eyes were scanning Hermione's clothing. "Remus, what is?" they heard the muffled voice of Mrs. Weasley through the door. "Its Harry!" he shouted back, still eyeing both as if he couldn't believe what he saw.

"Really, you shouldn't go to sleep with a full stomach. Surely it was just Kreacher." Her footsteps came closer. Harry felt how his throat had gone dry by that name. The houselve was still here though Sirius was dead. How dare he, how dare to be still able and breath? Harry's thoughts came back as he felt how Hermione's grip grew more and more intense. What had they done to her, he questioning himself as he looked at her white scared face?

Once more the door opened and a surprised Mrs. Weasley came in. She was in her dressing grown and looked thinner as weeks before. "Its really you! What are you doing here?" She said as stood by Lupins side. Both were waiting for an explanation. "Well, deatheaters did attack Hermione's home." Harry started slowly. "Molly, what's there going on?" shouted someone from the entrance hall but Harry couldn't say who it was. "Wake up the others. They should bring they wands with." Mrs. Weasley shouted back without to turn around. She was still eyeing Hermione. "Mum!" This was Ron. 

"Hurry up and wake them!" Lupin yelled suddenly. Hermione's grip grew more and more painfully. Carefully Harry tried to remove her hand from his arm. "Her parents are still there. I don't know what's happening there but they need help." His voice was barely above a whisper as if he did believe they were to late.

"You don't need to explain, Harry!" Lupin said softly. Above they heads they could hear hastily steps, door banging. "Oh God, It has begun…" said Mrs Weasley.                 


	3. The day after

**Authornote:** I'm really sorry that it took so long but finally here is the next chapter. It's a little bit short but for this exist a plot reason. I would like to thank **perivayne** for her co-writing and betaing. She did a lovely job even as I insist a rather mean cliff-hanger.    

The Day after – Chapter 3

After an extremely uncomfortable quarter hour of trying to explain what had happened to an increasingly louder Uncle Vernon, whose racket soon roused his wife and son to join him in united disapproval of Harry, the young wizard had had enough. His uncle stopped mid-invective when Harry's wand covertly prodded his stomach, and his nephew whispered what he would do if his uncle did not shut up. 

"Y-you wouldn't dare u-use magic, they'd throw you out of that freak school…" Uncle Vernon tried to regain his authority, but Harry had become older, wiser, and now that his friends were possibly in danger, completely ruthless.

"Would you care to test me to find out?" Harry softly asked, his tone deadly. Aunt Petunia seemed to sense their danger more acutely than either Vernon or Dudley. She grabbed each one by the arm and hustled them inside the house; pausing to shoot a panicked glance to where Harry stood in the front yard before shutting the door.

The young wizard spent a few minutes puzzling over what to do with Hermione's vehicle, before he figured out how to put it into neutral gear and push it to Mrs. Figg's house on Magnolia Crescent. He let the batty old Squib know what the car was doing in her driveway, and gave her the keys.

When Harry returned to Number 4, he found that the doors and windows had been locked and the curtains drawn. _Typical_, he thought, and so he sat down on the front step with his arms wrapped around his knees and waited patiently for the Dursleys to overcome their panic attack and let him back into the house. 

Later the same evening, Harry finished addressing a letter to Dumbledore, requesting that he be allowed to go and see Hermione as soon as possible. Two similar letters already completed on the desk were addressed to Dumbledore and Lupin respectively. Hedwig was out hunting at the moment, so he sat at his desk staring out into the darkness awaiting her return. 

As the night wore on, he heard the Dursleys retire for the evening. Dudley came in an hour later, attempting to tiptoe quietly past his parents' bedroom. Harry wished to open his door and inform him that people of Dudley's size couldn't be stealthy, especially when a floor squeaks under their weight, but Harry knew that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia wouldn't do a blessed thing to curb their overgrown bully of a son, so he simply moved to his bed to stretch out and listen for his familiar's return.

He must have dozed for a time, for when he opened his eyes; the moon had risen and was streaming through the window. Glancing over to Hedwig's cage, Harry found she still hadn't returned. Concerned, he got up to look out the window to see if he could spot the snowy owl returning, but the night was still and peaceful. 

A soft crack caught his attention. The sound came from the top of the street and Harry rushed back to his bed to snatch up his wand before trying to spot any approaching wizards. The solitary form of a man hove into view, walking quietly and quickly down the lane toward Number 4. Harry strained to make out his features in the darkness until the man strode through an island light from the nearby lamppost.

"Lupin!"

Harry quickly rushed down the stairs, uncaring if he roused his relatives and opened the front door as Remus stepped up onto the front step. "Harry," he said shaking his head resignedly, "You need to be more cautious now. What if I had been a Death E…"

"How's Hermione? What about her parents? What's be done to them? Can I go to St Mungo's to see her…" Lupin held up both hands to stop the interrogation as he smiled.  "I think we can address all that at a later time. Albus wants you moved to Headquarters so he can begin your Occulmency training. Let's get your gear together quickly. The portkey's set for 15 minutes."

Harry sprinted back up the stairs, rapidly packing what little he hadn't already packed in anticipation of leaving Privet Drive, though Harry honestly admitted to himself that he would have gone to see Hermione soon anyway without express permission. The Dursleys were awakened by his return to his room, and Harry could hear Uncle Vernon's blustering about the disruption to his sleep come to abrupt end. Lupin's voice was pitched low, with a menacing undertone Harry had never heard him use, but the young wizard couldn't make out what was exactly said. 

Picking up the end of his trunk, Harry dragged it to the top of the stairs where Lupin levitated it down the steps. Quickly returning to his room to snatch up Hedwig's cage and his Firebolt broom, he glanced about once to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Spying his letters on his desk, Harry grabbed them and shoved them in the back pocket of his jeans and left the room.

Uncle Vernon was standing on the far side of the parlour with large pieces of furniture between him and the werewolf wizard. Lupin looked quite mild and pleasant, with his worn jumper and trousers, Harry's trunk at his feet. Harry said, " All packed and ready, Professor," Lupin chuckled and said, "You're never going to stop using that title, are you, Harry?" He checked his watch and said, "One minute left." A battered tin cup was pulled from his pocket, and he reached down to pick-up one end of Harry's trunk.

"You won't see your nephew until next summer," Lupin stated softly, "You do intend to wish him well, don't you?" Vernon blinked, looking like a wild animal suddenly caught by in a spotlight, before stammering out a simple, "Have a good year, Potter."

Lupin began to count down; Harry stood stunned at the remarkably polite comment from his uncle, unable to formulate a coherent verbal response and so just nodded in acknowledgement of his uncle's words. Clearly, he had missed something of great import between Lupin and Dursley before he had come into the parlour. Harry grasped the handle of the cup a bit tighter and felt the familiar jerk from behind his navel and the spinning sensation that ended abruptly in the front hall of 12 Grimmauld Place.

Harry's breath caught as he looked around to the familiar sight of the ancestral Home of the Black family. Here in the front hall, everything remained as it had been the last time Harry had seen it and he half expected the kitchen door would open any minute and Sirius would come out to greet him. 

Harry swallowed hard as the painful thought of Sirius' loss caused his stomach to churn, but thankfully, his concern for Hermione overtook his grief and suppressed the knot in his stomach.

 "Let's go upstairs.", whispered Lupin as he laid a hand on Harry's shoulder to guide him past the curtained portrait of Mrs. Black. Harry took Hedwig's cage and his Firebolt and quietly climbed the stairs with Lupin following with his levitated trunk. They proceeded to second floor, keeping their progress as silent as possible. As they approached the room he had shared with Ron the previous year, he stopped short, suddenly aware that he still didn't know anything about what had been done to  the Grangers and Hermione. Harry turned around to question the werewolf.

"Later." Lupin said before Harry could open his mouth. 

Harry's anger rose; he couldn't believe that Lupin would not answer his questions now. He had been patient and waited at Privet Drive without haring off or doing something rash, but now it was close to twelve hours since Hermione had appeared at Privet Drive.  Again, they were treating him as if he was a child who must be protected from any hurt. She might be dead by now. At that thought, Harry felt his anger turn to ice around his heart. 

Harry looked up and met Lupin's eyes. "She isn't…she isn't dead, or…?", his voice was low and hesitant. Lupin looked torn and briefly closed his eyes. There was a moment of silence and then Lupin said, "Harry, I-" 

A loud crash from below and the screaming voice of Mrs Black interrupted him. "Go and get rest, Harry. We'll talk later," The older wizard turned and headed quickly downstairs while Harry watched him leave. Once the werewolf was out of sight, the young wizard entered his bedroom, placed Hedwig's cage on the desk with his Firebolt and threw himself down on his bed. 

What was going on? Why would no one tell him? Harry's fists clenched as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. He looked over at the other bed and realised he wished he could talk to Ron about what had happened and how he was being treated again. 

Exhaustion won out however over ire, and Harry soon fell asleep.


	4. The real Hero part 1

Chapter 4. The Real Hero/ Part one 

He floated in soft quiet darkness with no pain or memories there to torment him. The silence was complete and comforting in every way to the young wizard. How long he had been in this sheltered place, Harry could not say.  

But as with most things in Harry's life up till now, it wasn't to last.

Suddenly an ear-piercing scream echoed through the void surrounding Harry. It rose sharply to an agonizing pitch that had Harry reflexively flinching from the pain-filled sound.  Neither a single light nor any shape could be seen in the gloom. The only reality was the sound of agony, wrenched from the throat of someone unseen. As suddenly as the sound had come, it died down to a whimper and then it was gone.

"Harry…Harry…Harry..." A new voice was calling his name, sounding far away at first. The voice grew louder for a moment, then weaker before strengthening once more. It seemed to advance and retreat like waves across a beach. Harry turned blindly in place seeking the source of this new sound. The darkness lightened into grey fog and he felt a rushing sensation as if he was surfacing through a deep lake.

Light pierced the fog and Harry found himself tangled up in the bed covers, sweat soaking his pyjamas and hair.  A shape was bent over here and was gently shaking his shoulders.

 "Wake up, Harry." It was the calm voice he had heard last in the darkness. Somehow, Harry realized instinctually that this voice had not been the screamer. Harry opened his eyes wide, blinking tears away to focus. Mild blue eyes shone through half-moon glasses perched precariously on a long nose came into focus when Harry squinted, relief blazing through him as he recognized the old wizard. _Dumbledore_. 

Harry was panting slightly from the dream, if that was what it had been.  He could still hear a distant echo of this scream in his mind. As he recovered his equilibrium, he now realized to whom the scream belonged. 

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Harry knew that had been just a regular nightmare born out of his fears and anxiety. "Professor Dumbledore!" Harry gasped. His heart was beating a fast tattoo inside his chest, causing him to gulp for air.

 "Are you alright, Harry?" Dumbledore said carefully. Harry nodded quickly, questions blossoming in his eyes for the ancient wizard. Before he could vocalize even one, Dumbledore minutely shook his head and let his eyes shift toward the right. "Morning, Harry." came the rather depressed voice of Ron Weasley. 

Harry turned his head to see Ron sitting on the bed that had been his last summer. Slowly, Harry sat up and looked with expectation at the Headmaster. "What happened to the Grangers?" Harry asked him, guessing Dumbledore had wanted to keep something from Ron and so had asked a general rather than the specific question he had wanted. 

"The Grangers are now being cared for in St Mungo's as we determine what was done to them. The healers are still investigating their condition, but they are stable for now." 

Harry could tell that Dumbledore could read his irate expression at this lack of information. The older wizard turned toward the young red-haired wizard, "Mr. Weasley, could you fetch some of your mother's excellent breakfast upstairs for Harry?" Ron nodded and trotted downstairs, shouting to his mother that Harry was finally awake and was hungry. Obviously, Ron had forgotten Mrs. Black's portrait, which started screaming obscenities and imprecations at top volume.

Harry didn't bother to listen to the row that had developed downstairs after his friend's faux pas. He turned to Dumbledore, who gazed back serenly enough, but Harry noticed his twinkle was not present.

"What's really going on, sir? I need for you to tell me." Harry was proud of how even and calm his voice sounded. Dumbledore nodded and said softly, "I will tell you everything in shortly, Harry. Molly is adamant that Ronald and Virginia are not to be told the particulars of the Granger's situation. I would request that you do not share what I tell you with Ron or Ginny for Molly's sake. Can you do this?"

Harry did not like the idea of having to keep secrets from Ron, but knew if he did not agree, Dumbledore would not inform him further about what had happened to Hermione and her parents. He nodded curtly as the Headmaster raised an eyebrow.

"As I said previously, they are in St Mungo's and are in stable condition for now. Hermione seems not to be affected in the same way as her parents." The old wizard sat down on the foot of Harry's bed and pulled out his wand and quickly cast a spell. Small sounds that Harry's consciousness had disregarded as simple background noises now seemed intensified. _Privacy charm_, the young wizard thought the voice sounded like Hermione in the back of his mind.

With a deep sigh, Dumbledore continued. "We are still working on determining the exact nature of the curse that was cast on the Grangers. We have discovered that it is slowly draining the life force from its victims."

Harry stared; his face was a study in abject horror. Dumbledore met the eyes of his young student unwaveringly as he stated, "Harry, this spell is new to all of us. We can stop the progression, but until we gain a working knowledge of what the curse is truly… we cannot reverse the process."

The pause caused Harry's blood to boil. Dumbledore was censoring what he was telling him again. Unable to check his anger, Harry spat out, "So, now this is the part where you tell me that it isn't my fault and pat me on the head and tell me not to worry?"

The young man's tone was icy. Dumbledore reflected for a moment at the turn in the conversation, but then with a grave nod, continued.

"As I previously stated, Hermione is not affected in the same way, possibly the curse is not meant for witches or wizards, or something happened during the casting to disrupt it. The healers are positive she will recover fully within a few days. Her parents remain our greatest concern."

Harry turned away to stare out the window. The sunshine was bright and clear today, as if in opposition to Harry's mental and emotional state.

Dumbledore turned to gaze out to the brilliant light outside. "The ramifications of this curse is staggering, Harry; a new spell to kill Muggles and only Muggles. Such a heinous thing would broach the secrecy of the Wizarding World. This thing would rightfully panic any sensible individual, magical or non-magical. Voldemort's hubris could very well lead to more than just a wizard civil war…"

Harry shifted his gaze to the slightly stooped back of his teacher. The weight of the knowledge lay heavily on Harry's mind, and he saw its weight in Dumbledore's posture as well. A sudden trill of sound sounded in the room. Dumbledore turned and dispelled the privacy charm just as Ron reached the door and carefully backed into the room with a tray of eggs, bacon and toast. A single glass of cold pumpkin juice must have been magically restrained, because as Ron juggled the tray, the liquid did not slosh out. 

Ron placed the tray on the desk beside Harry's bed and looked between his friend and the Headmaster, detecting the strained atmosphere in the room. In a rare moment of sensitivity, he mumbled about helping his mother downstairs and hurried from the room. The tall youth's heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs, waking Mrs. Black once again. Mrs. Weasley's voice rose to a similar decibel level to berate Ron for waking the portrait once again. 

Harry flopped back on his bed and stared sightlessly up at the ceiling. Dumbledore sighed softly, "Harry, I must discuss what you need…"

"I need to see Hermione." 

"I will take you to St. Mungo's by portkey after you have eaten and dressed. Please do realize that events are in motion, and you need to be prepared for Voldemort. I will begin your occulmency lessons as soon as poss…"

Harry interrupted, "I see Hermione before I do anything, Professor." His flat tone and calm voice made the determination behind the words. Dumbledore closed eyes wearily for a moment, then stood up and straightened his robes before saying softly, "I am sorry that you are angry with me, Harry. I had hoped that we could overcome what happened between us last year quickly, but I see that is not yet a possibility." He removed a watch from his robes and then said, "I will escort you to St Mungo's and Remus and Arthur will bring you back here when you have visited Hermione. I have business to attend at the Ministry but I will return tomorrow to begin your occulmency training. Remus, Kingsley and Nymphadora will also be instructing you in defensive and offensive skills and magic for the rest of your stay here."

Harry clenched his jaw to stop himself from shouting at the headmaster. As always, he was being told how he would be living his life instead of being asked what he wanted. Stonily he stared at the older man and did not speak. Dumbledore nodded once, his weariness once more present before he swept from the room.

Harry leapt to his feet and began to pace, anger demanding any outlet it could find. He slammed open his trunk and pulled out some fresh clothes when a hesitant knock was followed by Ron's head peeking around at him.

"Is it safe to come in?"

"Of course it is, you prat! This is your room, too!"

Ron glanced behind him as he entered, then quickly shut the door and demanded, "What's going on with you and Dumbledore? It looked pretty tense, sort of like Mum when she's about to lay into the twins…"

Harry held to his promise and simply told Ron he and Dumbledore had been discussing some special training. Ron's face was pensive as he commented, "I thought he had told you what's going on with Hermione. Mum won't tell us anything. It's bloody annoying."

Harry quickly changed the subject, "So, how's your summer been?"

"Pretty boring really. Did manage some Quidditch practice with Ginny at the Burrow before we got relocated here. The twins are living above their shop in Diagon Alley, which is driving Mum spare with worry. They're doing really well though."

Harry had just finished dressing and was starting on his breakfast as they talked about the twins' business success and new products when another knock sounded on the door.

Ginny nipped in as soon as they called entry and sat down beside Ron on his bed.

"Dumbledore is waiting in the kitchen to take us to St. Mungo's, Harry. Are you nearly finished?"

Harry glanced down at his plate. He had not eaten a third of the meal, but his anxiety tightened his stomach so much he felt he could not eat another bite.

"Yeah, I'm finished. Let's get downstairs and go see Hermione."

**Authornote:**  I wanted to thank my co-writer **perivayne** and I would like to explain why I needed so much time to update this story. Its like that normally if I write alone I can write more as one chapter at time. This means through the time my beta read the first chapter I write the second. But here I work with my co-writer together so I have to wait and to discuss how we write it and if its canon alike enough. We want to hold it believable that's the goal of this story. Any comments are most welcome. I like to know what you think so far about this story. Thanks for reading********


	5. The real Hero part 2

_The Real Hero, Part 2_

The portkey trip to St. Mungo's was quick and as normal as Harry had come to expect, but the corridor they arrived in was completely deserted except for them. 

The silence was broken only by their footsteps echoing hollowly from the wooden floor.  A few portraits of some unknown healers watched in interest as the group passed, but none spoke.  Something about the portraits' unwavering attention made Harry slightly uneasy. Nothing about this corridor was even remotely familiar to him.

"Molly won't be happy about you two being here." Said Lupin in a resigned voice. Harry could just imagine the tongue-lashing Lupin was probably going to receive from the Weasley matriarch.

 "I'm almost of age. She needs to let go-." Ron responded as Harry continued to glance around at their surroundings. This was a completely different part of St. Mungo's that he hadn't seen.

 "Where are we?" Harry asked Lupin.

 "This is the sixth floor."

 "Sixth floor? Hang on, there's only five floors." Ron stopped in his tracks and looked askance at the older man. Harry also turned to hear Lupin's explanation.

 "Well, yes and no, Ron. The Sixth floor is a completely warded and protected area, unknown to most of the wizarding world. After Voldemort disappeared 14 years ago this floor was closed." A door opened several feet down the corridor and Mad-eye Moody appeared followed by Mr Weasley and Tonks. 

"Here all research into understanding and reversing the Dark curses was done in secret.  Also, those under Fidelius protection would be treated here in secret. The best Healers that the wizarding world had all worked here in those dark times." Growled Mad-Eye as he joined them. Ron paled slightly as he saw his father. "Harry, how are you?" Mr Weasley asked him as he placed a reassuring hand on Ron's shoulder. 

"Fine!" Harry responded shortly.

"We should go. The portkey is set to return us in a half hour." With that statement, Lupin headed down the corridor with Harry, Ron and Mr Weasley following him. Mad-Eye and Tonks went in the opposite direction. Obviously, they were going to be standing guard as Mad-eye's lecture to Tonks on vigilance echoed back to the others as they walked away. 

The activity of the corridor increased as they turned the corner. A few healers scurried back and forth between the rooms and the portraits whispered encouragement to lighten the depressing ambiance of the dimly lit corridor. Silently, Harry started to imagine what he could say to Hermione but his mind was blank. He didn't know. He simply didn't know what it was to fear for the life of one's parents. A lump rose in his throat as he became painfully aware that he didn't know how to help Hermione in this situation. 

It had never been like this before. Finally, they stopped in front of stout oak door with a tarnished brass number plate that read Ward 9.

 "I'll wait out here for you." Lupin told him as Mr. Weasley pulled Ron aside for a private word.  Harry could see Ron's reluctance as the two walked a bit further to be out of earshot. Ron was obviously questioning the timing, but Mr. Weasley was clearly insistent. 

Harry turned to the door and pushed it open quietly, still stewing mentally about what was going on with Ron. It distracted him momentarily from his terror over not knowing what to say to Hermione.

 The room was slightly brighter than the outer corridor than he had expected.  Hermione sitting upright in a bed about halfway down the ward. Her face was turned away from the door toward the windows, which reflected a pastoral view of countryside instead of the London cityscape where they actually were presently. She didn't turn around as Harry closed the door.

 "Hey!" His voice sounded strangely soft to his own ears, but was still loud enough to get her attention. Her head whipped about as she gazed at her friend, desolation in her deep brown eyes. She seemed to struggle slightly before a slight smile appeared on her face.

 "Harry!" Her voice was hoarse and scratchy, as if she had been using it too much.  Harry went to her side. It was in her face and her eyes that it wasn't an easy situation. As long as he had known her she hadn't ever looked this way before. 

He didn't know if it was the curse or simply concern about her parents. But finally gaining control over his voice, he stuttered out, "I'm – I'm sorry –"

She interrupted him by grabbing his hand and holding it tightly, almost to the point of pain. "Thank you…thank you so much." To his amazement, there was so much depth of emotion in her voice, but he didn't understand why she would thank him.  

He hadn't done anything. "What…Why?" 

For the first time she looked straight into his eyes. "Because of you my parents are still alive." she whispered. 

"No, not because of me. You – " he tried to interrupt

 "I did not," Hermione told him sharply," I – I wasn't able to fight them. I'm so stupid." Her chest was heaving under her gasping breathing as she leaned back against the pillow, her meager strength exhausted. 

"Hermione, you aren't stupid. Remember Dumbledore's army? That was your idea. You're such a brilliant witch –" Harry couldn't understand why his confident friend was saying this about herself. He couldn't let her believe -

 "I'm a brilliant know-it-all who wasn't able to protect her own family." She said bitterly. 

"Hermione, they were adult wizards, those Death Eaters. You did everything you should have. I know, I've fought beside you. I doubt anyone else could've done more…" he trailed off, confused. Harry couldn't believe he was having this conversation with Hermione.

"Of course, you would have done better than me, Harry. You don't lose your head when you're attacked.  It was Crookshanks who saved me. If he hadn't attacked the Deatheater during the spell… I hadn't gotten to you for help-" Hermione respond dispiritedly.

"You know, you're right. You are certainly being stupid right now! Stupid to blame yourself for something you didn't do. There were two Deatheaters and you were alone with your parents in the line of fire. It's amazing that you survived at all. Don't seek out blame and guilt, Hermione, because it's not your fault that there are people like that in the world. Please, Hermione, I know you're smarter than that." Intently he watched her, willing her to understand, but all she did was to look back toward the windows.

A commotion at the door drew Harry's gaze from his friend's face to see his other best friend storm into the ward, his face and ears a blazing red that almost matched his hair color.

Harry sighed internally as Ron came toward them. This didn't bode well.     

**Authornote: **I would like to thank my co-writer **perivayne**. Well, I should now start to work at chapter 5, don't I?                                   


	6. Promises Made

Authornote: I would like to thank my co-writer perivayne. Like you see this is a much longer chapter. I can't remember that I ever posted such a long chapter in any of my stories. I know its had been long since I updated but you know why it takes so long. But I hope this long chapter will do it. Of course I thank you for this many reviews.   Chapter 5 –  Promises Made 

Ron was seething with rage as he stormed across to Hermione's bed. The last time Harry had seen him this angry had been in 4th year and the Triwizard Tournament.  The angry redheaded wizard looked back and forth between his friends as he tried to calm himself enough to speak.

 "What's the matter?" Harry asked his best friend with some trepidation.  Hermione's expression indicated some concern, but she remained silent for the moment.

"You won't believe what my Dad just told me!" Ron gulped a quick breath before continuing, "My parents," he spat, "feel that just because I came with you instead of doing what my Mum wanted that it just shows how they can't trust me to have a proper sense of maturity to make my own decisions! They just can't expect from me to stay behind when Hermione is here in this place. I've got the same right as you to see her."

Harry tried to interject, but Ron's sense of umbrage would not be denied. "Just because it might be dangerous to come see her? What about how dangerous it was for Hermione in her own home? I'll tell you what, I'll be happier when we're back at Hogwarts." 

Harry sighed under his breath, not at all surprised at the Weasleys' protective attitude after his talk with Dumbledore. As he looked over to Hermione, he found she had turned away from them. Ron didn't know the whole story, and Harry felt the promise he had given Dumbeldore bite his conscience. 

"It's because of the Department of Mystery, isn't it?" His own voice sounded suddenly foreign to Harry, frigid and hollow.  _My fault, it's my fault Ron's parents are on like this…_

"Yeah, after the brain attack scars healed, they started acting as if I'm still a child. Mum kept on about how I could have died; that it was just luck that Ginny and I were alive."

 "Your Mum is right. Its to dangerous you shouldn't be here, both of you shouldn't be here," Hermione said suddenly, turning to stare at both boys as they gaped in astonishment. 

"Come on, Hermione. This is St. Mungo's! It's one of the safest places in London, and besides, we've only been here for maybe 30 minutes, tops. A dozen Aurors are walking the floors here. We're safe here, you know!" Ron went round to the other side of the bed and sat down near her feet. 

Impatiently, she discounted that statement. "Even if there were a million Aurors. We aren't safe. Anywhere. Remember the stories of what it was like as Voldemort rose to power the first time? I read "**The rise and fall of the Dark Arts"** and I tell you that you aren't safe. Only if you're under Dumbledore's direct protection, and then only maybe." She turned back to Harry sharply. Harry wasn't sure exactly what Hermione wanted him to do or say, but her eyes showed both temper and pleading as the same time.

 To Harry's amazement, Ron had not gotten angry at Hermione's snappish remark, just flinching once at the mention of Voldemort's name. Actually, he was smiling rather brightly. 

"Well, then we're in luck then, aren't we?" He asked. " We are under the protection of Dumbledore." 

"Are we really?" Hermione asked him softly before Harry could think of anything. The doubt and poorly hidden fear in her voice scored Harry's heart. He didn't like where this discussion was going, not at all.

 "You know, I didn't want to upset you with arguing, Hermione. Especially not about Voldemort." He shot Ron an icy glare and Ron looked a bit shamefaced at that. 

"How are you, Hermione? Really?" At first, Hermione seemed to ignore this question in favour of her trademark death glaring at Ron, who looked away after a few seconds, but when Harry touched her shoulder, she answered. "I'm fine. In two days, I should be able leave St. Mungo's, the Healers said." Her voice was gentle now, and Ron looked back to her as she continued, "Then, I can at least get my homework done for…." 

"You joking, right? It's still summer break, Hermione! And with everything that's happening, how can you think about homework at a time like this…" Ron shook his head disgustedly as this, missing the desperate look she shot Harry.      

It was in her eyes. She knew.

The whole time she was answered answering Ron's dumbstruck query about her schoolwork, Hermione held Harry's eyes. How did she know Ron didn't know everything about the attack on the Grangers, he wondered.  This added even more guilt in Harry for Ron's forced ignorance of the situation.

The whole situation was becoming surreal. Now, Harry was increasingly forced to deal with his own situation alone. Ron couldn't be told, Hermione was in deadly peril and Sirius had died in the Ministry of Magic trying to save him. One by one, all the people Harry had learned to depend on were being taken from him.

Harry now realized he couldn't ask his friends for advice about the prophecy. The only source that remained to him was Dumbledore, but strangely enough, Harry knew he wouldn't get the answers he needed to hear from the elderly Headmaster.  Was there a solution to this lack of support for him? If Hermione's wasn't healthy and Ron didn't even know what was going on enough to help him, who else could Harry trust? He was unable to think clearly about this at the moment, so Harry sighed deeply as he looked around the ward to distract himself. 

The room wasn't really bright or colourful, despite the magical windows reflecting the London skyline. Now, that Harry was noticing, there weren't any portraits on the walls either. The heavy wood panelling seemed dingy with dust and dirt, though the beds and furniture were spotless.

 "There isn't too much cheerful in here, I'm afraid." Hermione had observed his attention to the room details. "This floor was only just reopened after…after the attack…" Hermione's voice trailed off at the end but after a brief pause continued with slight hint of amusement in her voice. "But, at least the beds are clean."

 "Isn't it boring here with nothing to do?" Ron's face reflected curiosity, while Harry rolled his eyes heavenward at his friend's somewhat dense question. Hermione smirked at Harry's reaction, and then answered.

 "It's not as if I could do much, anyway. I only managed to walk around the floor twice, since I'm still easily exhausted. They aren't holding me here for another two days just for fun, you know." Slowly, she laid her head back on her pillow and closed her eyes. It seemed as if their visit had cost her more energy than either boy had noticed.

A sharp rap on the door broke the silence that had fallen in the room. Remus Lupin opened the door and gazed at the trio of teens. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt your visit, boys, but you need to say good-bye for now," Lupin told them as he entered the room and went to Harry's side.  "The portkey will be active in less than ten minutes."  Ron looked a bit rebellious, but at Lupin's intense gaze, he swallowed back his disgruntlement and rose to join the former DADA professor and Harry.

"Professor, - " Hermione started, but Lupin stopped her softly.  "I'm no longer your Professor, Hermione. Please call me Remus"

"Its so good to see you." Hermione's face brightened with a small smile. Lupin smiled back as Harry started to say his farewell, "I'll… – we'll see you real soon again, Her - " 

The ward door slammed open against the wall with a harsh sound, causing everyone to turn and look at the dishevelled Tonks standing in the doorway, panting. An electric sense of danger swept through Harry though he didn't feel any twinges from his scar. 

 "Remus, we need your assistance…Now!" 

Remus face was tense as he strode over to Tonks who began speaking in a low voice that didn't quite carry over to Harry and the others. With questioning expressions, both Ron and Hermione looked to Harry. But he could only shrug his shoulders. Just as Harry looked back to the pair in the doorway, he caught a glimpse of Mad Eye moving forcefully down the hallway. The older auror's face betrayed no recognizable emotion, but Harry still sensed a difference. This wasn't right, something was going on. Something that was not good.

 "What's going on?" Ron demanded as Remus turned back to them.

 "Not now, Ron. I'll explain it later. At first, you need to go back to Headquarters, all three of you. In two minutes, the portkey becomes active again. I'll send you three along to the Place. Do try to stay out of trouble, would you? We'll meet you back there and then I'll tell you what's going on." With this he handed Harry a copy of "Quidditch Through The Ages" and hurried from the room before anyone could say another word.

Alone in the room, Harry looked over to Ron, who just nodded sharply. Harry handed the book to Hermione, who stuttered, "What are y-you two d-doin…" Both boys ran to the ward door and carefully looked around the corner in the direction they had seen the adults going. The distant sounds of spells and screams sounded from beyond their sight. Somewhere, a rather large fight was ensuing. 

"Blimey! What's happening, do you think, Harry?"

Harry shook his head and muttered, "Dunno. Maybe we should go see?"

As the two boys glanced at each other and made the decision, a pair of small hands pulled them back. Hermione held the book under her arm as she pulled the two boys back into the ward. She was visibly shaking from the effort, and concerned, Harry reached his arm around her shoulders to support her.

" I can't believe the two of you would be so stupid as –" Her diatribe was broken by a sudden spate of coughing. Across the hall, another ward door slammed open revealing two unknown aurors, who pelted out and down the hallway towards the ruckus. Harry could see several Healers in small groups surrounding what appeared to be three patients. Two patients were the Grangers, pale faced and unconscious, but the third was Kingsley Shacklebolt. 

Suddenly, the groups began to disappear as Portkeys were activated. Hermione stifled a sob as her parents disappeared. The best plan to the teens now seemed to be to leave as soon as possible.

"Are you ready?" Harry asked, his voice shaky from what he'd just seen. Ron just nodded, but Hermione remained motionless for a moment before she shook her head. 

"What? What are saying, Hermione?", questioned Ron.

 "I – I can't. You have to go without me." She said in a quivering sort of voice as she straightened up abruptly, turned and was about to throw off Harry's assistance to go to her bed. 

It looked rather as if she was forcing herself because of her weakness rather than actual need. Harry determined he was not going to leave one of his best friends behind for whatever reason she thought was best.  "You'll go with us." Harry put a hand on her shoulder and prevented her return to the bed. "You don't understand, I can't leave." She said this desperately as she tried to stop him from placing her right hand firmly on the book portkey. 

Hermione fought to free her hand, but Harry was implacable. "Please, let me go. Please, Harry!  You don't understand, just leave me here, please!" she begged with unshed tears in her eyes.

 "Now, Ron." said Harry as Hermione still struggled against his grip. Without a word, Ron touched the Portkey as well.  Harry felt the familiar jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet had left the ground and the Portkey was pulling him onwards in a howl of wind and swirling colour, Hermione and Ron at his side.

Harry felt his feet slam into the ground and fought to keep his balance but Hermione's additional weight made that impossible. He fell backwards onto the floor, and because of his intense grasp, Hermione had landed atop him on the floor as well. Only Ron had kept on his feet.

 The immediate noise caused by their arrival in the front entry of Number 12 Grimmauld Place was agony to hear.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked Hermione as she slowly regained her breath. He slid out from underneath his friend and carefully lifted her to her feet. Hermione tottered for a moment, but then managed to stand unassisted. Only after a few moments did Harry realise that he had still her hand in his. 

He let go of her hand reluctantly as he face her murderous stare Never before he had seen her look at him like that. A cold shiver raced down Harry's spine at her response to his high-handed behaviour.

 "Where have you been, Ronald Weasley?" A horrified look passed over Ron's face before he turned to his mother who stood in the door to the kitchen, hands on her hips and a glint in her eyes that spelled trouble for her progeny. Ron was spared the oncoming storm of remonstrance from his mother only because she spotted Hermione standing in her nightdress just behind her son

 "Oh my dear, what are you doing here? I did expect you for another few days. Let's just get you settled upstairs, shall we?" Mrs Weasley bustled like a mother hen with an injured chick. She hurried over to Hermione and began to assist her to the stairs.

"Professor Lupin – eh, I mean, Remus said that all three of us needed to get here. I believe St Mungo's wasn't safe anymore." As Harry explained what had happened to Mrs Weasley, he realised finally why Hermione hadn't wanted to leave.

As Harry described the events at the hospital, he was becoming painfully aware what he had just done to his friend. Harry ended his explanation suddenly, trailing away in a soft whisper. 

"Come, Hermione. You need to rest, dear." Mrs Weasley said sympathetically after Harry's story finished. Hermione did not speak a word, but Harry could see in her eyes the exhaustion and pure frustrated rage that simmered below her quiet facade. 

Harry couldn't meet her gaze for long.  He turned instead to watch Ron's relief at his reprieve from his mother's wrath due to the distraction that Hermione's presence provided. It seemed as if Ron would get away without a lecture.

 "And Ron, WE will have later a little chat when your father gets back, young man!"  With that, Mrs Weasley and Hermione made their way upstairs as Ron cringed and shut his eyes tightly.

"This doesn't look well, Harry. She's going to kill me."

Harry forced a response despite his thoughts remaining on the trespass he had just committed with Hermione. "Come on, Ron, you know you did disobey her wilfully. You said yourself you are almost an adult. So, take the responsibility for your actions and accept the punishment." Harry responded. 

 "You have no idea what she is able to come up with in regards to punishment, mate. She can surpass Snape sometimes in inflicted misery." Ron whispered, glancing upward anxiously as if Mrs Weasley might hear him. 

Hermione's parents were somewhere out there and probably in danger if the actions of the Healers indicated anything. Harry's stomach somersaulted at this thought, especially that he only now realised that whatever this curse was the reason she had wanted to stay where she had felt safe. Lord, what if something happened to the Grangers? 

Harry's mouth went dry at the realization that he had no idea how he could act around Hermione in such a case. Ron was still chuntering on about his mum as Harry closed his eyes. This little voice in his head, which had bothered he through the last two weeks, was back again. This part of his psyche that kept saying "What if?" was getting louder. All this evil was because of him and only him, Harry thought with despair.

"Well, she was quiet." Ron's voice penetrated his circling thoughts and stilled them with that statement.

 "What?" Harry asked absently. Ron motioned for Harry to follow him down the entrance hall away from the stairs as he continued, "Hermione, she was quiet. We both know she isn't normally like that. Sometimes, she can't stop speaking granted, but that quiet? I tell you there is something going on that we don't know about and I don't like it. Probably because it has something to do with You-Know-Who. They all act like that just because they think were too young to understand…." Suddenly Ron trailed off and looked shocked at Harry's stony expression and angry eyes. "I – I'm sorry, what did I say wrong…? "

Harry spat out, "She has all rights to be quiet after all she's been through in the last few days, Ron! It's not just about you, you know, prat! I don't know what's going on, but we're going to have to look out for each other and our friends this year. Now that Voldemort's shown us that he can hurt us, Hermione is right. No place is safe anymore, not even Hogwarts." Harry's own words made him cold. Ron stood dumbfounded at his friend's sharp words.

 At that moment, several loud cracks were heard and five Wizards were standing in the entrance hall with Harry and Ron.

Tonks, Mad Eye Moody, Mr Weasley, Lupin and Bill glanced about anxiously for a moment before they spotted the boys and they relaxed. On Lupin's right cheek a bruise was purpling up nicely, and the others all had signs of recent combat in their torn clothing and mussed appearances. 

Ron's reprieve from parental disapproval came to an abrupt end as at this moment, Mrs Weasley came downstairs again. After a cursory check of her husband and eldest, she spoke firmly "Ron, follow me to the kitchen. I need to talk to you. Arthur, please, I need you too." 

"Wish me luck." Ron said to Harry, who did as he requested.  Ron's face was glum as he followed his father into the kitchen. As Harry was sure Ron was out of earshot, he questioned Lupin. "What happened?"

For a second in his eyes were amused at Harry's caution, then he answered. "Deatheaters attacked St Mungo's, but not only Deatheaters. There were a few Dementors too. They got to floor 4, but they weren't able to get past us. I reckon it's just a warning to the Wizarding World. Everybody who is old enough remember now knows what is going to happen." Remus pulled Harry toward the front parlour as the other wizards headed off to rooms on the upper floors.

"Voldemort's warning is to those people who were closer to him more than just to we who oppose him. It's just a matter of time until people start to practise the Dark Arts openly again." Harry's eyes betrayed his sense of horror, but he didn't interrupt Lupin. 

"Only one thing can be counted on from now on. Either you are for Voldemort or against him. If he wins, Harry, then if you were against him, your life will become a living hell. No muggleborn will ever be safe anymore. Harry, Dark times, really dark times are at the doorstep." Lupin stopped, though Harry knew he wanted to say more.

"Tell him about the last time. What life had become by this time in Voldemort's last reign. So dark that you didn't, couldn't, trust anyone anymore. Not your family, your friends, because they could betray you." Moody's gruff voice pulled Harry's attention away from Lupin.

 "Are they all right? The Grangers?" Harry asked. Mad Eye was looking at him with his normal eye while the magical eye spun around in its socket. "They are in the same state as before. You can tell her that, Potter. There's been no change" He growled. On his scary looking face a grin appeared, looking rather out-of-place there. Moody and Lupin both watched as Harry quickly disappeared upstairs with the news for Hermione.

Every stair made a creaking sound as he climbed. This dark house was still like it had been just a year before, full of shadows. It was as if no time had passed but the old life Harry had known previous was gone. In its place was this dark twin, full of nightmares and dread. Indeed, there did exist things that were more terrible that death itself. 

Slowly, he went along the shadowy dark hallway to the room he remembered as being Ginny and Hermione's last year.  It was so quiet that he could have been completely alone in the house. More quickly than he liked, Harry was standing in front of her door and was about to enter. 

Without a sound, he opened the door and peered through the gloom. If he thought the corridor had been dark, he hadn't known how dark a simple room could be. Harry hadn't been in this room before, but could just make out the shadows of two beds, and a desk and chair near the window where the curtains had been drawn. 

The only light streamed through a gap in the curtains and fell across the desk and floor. A single figure was silhouetted in chair. As he crept inside and shut the door, Harry heard a cat begin to purr loudly.. 

He barely breathed, so tense was the mood. The figure turned and Harry knew it was his friend.

"I'm sorry, Hermione." He whispered, remorse and anguish in his voice.

"That's the second time today, Harry, you've told me that. I would have done the same thing, you know, if I had been in your place." She answered in a firm tone, otherwise motionless except for her repetitive stroking of Crookshanks, who was curled up in her lap. 

As Harry approached Hermione, he saw a faint glimmer of golden lines upon her face; silent tear tracks were gilded by the weak sunlight into precious lustre. He saw Crookshanks' eyes reflect a patch of light before they closed and the purring intensified. He settled on the floor at her feet and gazed up at his friend completely at a loss about how to help her and make things right between them.

"Your parents are safe. Nothing happened to them during the attack." He said softly.

"My parents stood always supported me, though they knew I didn't tell them everything that was happening. Everything I am, I am because of them, because of their love for me. I should have been able to protect them, but I failed. It was a - ."

Harry reached up and took her hand. It was cold to the touch. He held it between both of his to warm it as he chided her gently, "Don't do this to yourself. You did all that you could, Hermione. Not one of us could have done better, none of us. You are the smartest witch in our year, Hermione, and you will become a powerful witch.  We will find a way to help your parents, Hermione. I promise. Voldemort will pay for what he's done."

After a moment, her hand left his and rested against his forehead. Nonplussed, Harry stammered, "Wha-what are you doing?" 

"Checking for a fever," she said cheekily. "Nope, no fever. Who are you and where'd you get the Polyjuice potion, sir? You can't be the real Harry Potter. No way he'd ever be this  wise." She chuckled at Harry's disgruntled attempt to swipe her hand away. Her hand stroked through his fringe and traced his scar lightly. 

"Do you really think we can help my parents? I wish I could have done more; changed what happened…what did I do wrong?" she asked quietly as she looked down into his shadowed face.

"You taught me that you can't change what lies in the past. What happened happened, but if you blame yourself then you don't get a chance to affect the future. We have to live in the now and worry about the future being better rather than dwelling on the wrong in the past."  He took her hand again and held it, willing his strength into her. 

She nodded once as he finished and a comfortable silence fell between them.. Harry jumped when Crookshanks' paw shot out and tried to catch his hand. He gave in to the cat's importuning and reached over to stroke and scratch the feline's head. The cat's rumbling purr indicated he was in heaven over the attention. The purring began to relax both teens, making them loathe to break the mood with talking.

Hermione finally stopped her petting as she stared down into Harry's green eyes. Concerned, he asked her what was wrong.

"Would you do me a favour?" He was surprised at her quiet request but nodded in acquiescence. 

She took a deep breath as if it what she wanted was such an important thing that she almost believed he wouldn't grant her request. She took his hand away from it's stroking of Crookshanks and held it tightly.

"Promise me,…" her voice broke slight, then she hurried on," Promise me that you won't leave me. No matter what happens, no matter how hopelessly the outcome seems, promise me you won't give up. That you will fight to stay with me."

Harry was taken aback by her desperate plea. He had expected anything but this. He paused a moment, wondering if it was fair to give her an oath it was very probable he would not be able to achieve. The prophecy didn't offer too much hope for his continued survival, but it was the need in her eyes that he couldn't deny.

"I promise, I won't leave you, Hermione." At least not willingly, he silently added in afterthought. Despite his misgivings about his ability to deliver on his oath, the first real smile on her face that he had seen on her face since last term more than outweighed his doubts.

He grinned back and then suggested she should probably be in bed. She wrinkled his nose in disgust at his mother-hen suggestion, but still got up and carried Crookshanks to the bed. He helped her into it and tucked her in.

"I'll be just downstairs. If you need something, just send this large lump of fur to come get me, ok?"  Harry smirked at Crookshanks' narrowed eyes at the comment, but Hermione's small giggle was reward enough.

As he left the room, Harry left the door cracked open enough for the cat to pass through easily and headed downstairs. The quiet of the house wasn't broken until Harry reached the kitchen door. The muted sound of Mrs Weasley in full spate caused Harry to reconsider filling his empty stomach in favour of living to see his sixteenth birthday

He spun around to head back upstairs before jumping back with a yell. Albus Dumbledore was standing just behind him, his blue eyes twinkling at Harry's start. 

"My apologies, Harry. But, I'm not enthusiastic about attracting Molly's attention at this moment. We need to talk." Harry glanced over his shoulder and was relieved to see that his yell had not attracted Mrs. Weasley's attention, and then he followed the Headmaster into the front parlour.


	7. Training and Trials

**Authornote:** I would like to thank you for your patience to wait for an update that long. The past few weeks were pretty against me. Some of you may know that I was in the hospital and after that I needed some time to recover. Through this I couldn't give **Perivayne** enough feedback. I thank her very much for her guidance and that she was so kind to point out flaws in this chapter which I send her without this you wouldn't be able and read this update.This is the real update. The first one was a different vision. Its not really that much different but still its better to read. I like to thank **Perivayne **and **Renata **for betaing and guidance.

Chapter 6 – Training and Trials 

****

The armchair was old and uncomfortable and the sun shining through the dingy windows played straight across Harry's face. It was now midday -- the sun at zenith, the air warm and humid with the heat of summer -- but Harry still felt a chill deep inside.

In the last few days, so much had happened that he was still seeking to come to terms with all the changes and shocks. Always searching for a better solution for his problems, but finding none, Harry could not stop worrying. Hermione's parents still hovered between life and death. Ron did not even know the impact of this new curse. It was only a matter of time until he figured it out or at least started to wonder why his parents were acting so strangely. Harry hated to keep Ron in the dark just because his parents didn't want to let him deal with this situation.

"Harry, are you listening to me?" The soft voice of his headmaster penetrated his circling thoughts. Harry looked up into blue eyes, which were only twinkling this time because of the sunlight that touched lightly on the side of Dumbledore's face.

"Sorry, sir. I was just – "

"Just deep in your thoughts; I understand, Harry. You carry a heavy burden on your young shoulders. As I said, we do not know what Voldemort is planning currently, at least not precisely. I'm determined to inform you as much as is possible. If you know what is happening, then you can prepare. 'Chance favours the prepared mind.' A strangely applicable Muggle quote…"

After a short pause, Dumbledore asked quietly, his voice sombre: "Do you remember what I said about the curse, Harry?"

Silently, Harry nodded.

"Only the order, Miss Granger and you know what this curse is doing to its victims, and I insist that you do not tell anyone else. We cannot risk Voldemort's followers ascertaining that we know about his new curse, that the Order recognizes its design and purpose."

This statement echoed in Harry's mind, but he felt that Dumbledore wasn't telling him everything he wanted to. That Dumbledore might answer to a higher authority was a concept Harry had learned in the most brutal way last term. "I know all this already, sir," Harry stated, irritation rising inside.

"I hope you haven't told anyone about the prophecy or what you felt when Voldemort possessed you in the Ministry?" Though the sun was shining along Dumbledore's face, his eyes no longer reflected this light.

"No, I haven't," Harry answered in a small voice, suddenly very aware of where he was.

The walls of 12 Grimmauld Place seemed to close around him, to swallow him whole. Harry had never felt that since his arrival, but now it overwhelmed him to be here. Only a few feet away from this room, Harry had seen Sirius for the first time in this ancient house of the Black Family. How could Harry have forgotten Sirius' loss, even for a moment?

"Very well," said Dumbledore, "then we should start your Occlumency lessons. Voldemort must not be able to manipulate your dreams or your mind. It is now more important then ever to close the Dark Lord out."

"Start the lessons now?" Harry questioned, taken aback by the Headmaster's pronouncement. He knew a lesson wouldn't help him today, for it would be impossible to clear his mind. Too much had happened the past days and weeks in his life.

Ron's voice, raised in anger, drifted into the parlour despite the two closed doors. The argument with his parents in the kitchen was still going strong.

"Certainly not today, but tomorrow. Harry, you must know that I can only teach you until the next term starts. I hope you'll understand that I won't have enough time to teach you as often as you'll need during term. On your weekends, probably, but during the week, Professor Sna-- "

"No! Not Snape," Harry interrupted Dumbledore, his voice trembling with rage.

"Professor Snape, Harry. I understand that you don't want -- "

"You don't understand. I hate Snape. He hates me. I won't have extra lessons with him again." With that, Harry suddenly stood up and strode from the room toward the stairs.

As he reached the bottom step, Harry heard a loud crack, and he ran straight into Dumbledore.

"Do you want Voldemort to be able to trick you again, Harry?" The old wizard's voice was no longer warm and comforting, but rather cold and abrupt.

Harry stared mutinously into Dumbledore's eyes. The Headmaster held his gaze and after a moment, simply raised one brow in a questioning gesture.

"NO." Harry finally shouted, goaded by Dumbledore into a response.

"Then you will have to have occlumency lessons with Professor Snape. Of course I'll try to teach you as often as possible myself, but I can't always promise you that. You need to learn restraint and control of your emotions, Harry. If you can overcome your dislike and mutual enmity to learn from Snape, it will only be to your benefit. You cannot let your temper rule your life," Dumbledore said firmly.

"Tell Snape this. He is the one who hates me because of my father, the one who couldn't care about Sirius' death other than to celebrate it and he is the one who chose to serve Voldemort. Who's to say that he won't return to Voldemort?" Harry paused for a moment, then continued, "I hate him and I won't let him weaken me, not again."

Harry pushed past Dumbledore and ran up the stairs. Faintly he heard his headmaster's response.

"Maybe tomorrow you'll understand." Dumbledore's voice was soft and weary.

Panting for breath, Harry leaned his forehead against the cool wood of his bedroom door.

"I've had enough…" Harry whispered, his voice hoarse from yelling. With a final click, the door was shut and locked, and he was alone. It was something he desperately needed. Times like this he wished for Sirius and his advice. Sirius would understand him. At least, he could tell Sirius about the prophecy. Something furry brushed against his leg, startling Harry from his morose wishing.

He looked down and a squashed ginger face looked back. "Crookshanks, you blighter! You nearly startled me to death." Remembering his conversation earlier with Hermione, Harry quickly unlocked his door and went to Hermione's room.

Silently, he eased the door open to find Hermione resting peacefully, one hand tucked beneath her head. Harry looked down at Crookshanks, who gazed up at him with a definite "What?" expression.

"You were supposed to stay with her, you know that?" The ginger cat merely gazed back at the black-haired wizard inscrutably. Harry retraced his steps back to his room. Crookshanks followed him, meowing and scratching when Harry locked him out Giving in, Harry cracked the door wide enough for Hermione's familiar to slip through, then shut and locked it once more.

With a soft sigh, Harry slid down against the wall next to his bed. The tomcat immediately curled up in his lap and began to purr. The purring intensified when the wizard stroked the ginger cat absently.

All the rest of the afternoon, Harry remained in his room, refusing to think about tomorrow. Crookshanks stayed with him, a solid comforting presence, rather like Buckbeak had been the previous year -- minus the rats, of course. Harry promised himself that Buckbeak would get a special dinner of a certain human rat one day. At dinnertime, he heard Mrs. Weasley softly calling his name from the first floor.

Getting up from his sitting position after several hours proved both difficult and painful, especially with Crookshanks's bulk cutting off some of the circulation in his legs, but after some groaning and stretching, Harry managed. Crookshanks accompanied him out onto the landing, where Harry instructed the cat to go keep watch on Hermione.

"Don't let on to Hermione about this. She would just worry about me. She always does," Harry told Crookshanks as the cat headed off to Hermione's room. He could hear her voice in his mind, lecturing him on how he needed to practice his Occlumency.

As he headed downstairs to the kitchen, her voice changed to another familiar plea, _"Harry, I'm begging you, please!" he could still hear her say desperately. "Please let's just check that Sirius isn't at home before we go charging off to London. If we find out he's not there, then I swear I won't try to stop you. I'll come, I'll d – do whatever it takes to try and save him." _

And she had done just that. Shaking his head vigorously, Harry desperately tried to stop this particular memory and its painful conclusion. He did not want to agonize again over his lost godfather and the injuries to his best friends – friends who had put themselves in harm's way for Harry's sake.

It was early evening now and though Harry had not eaten anything since breakfast, he found he was not hungry. Mrs Weasley would very likely fret if he missed this meal, so Harry reluctantly went down to dinner.

Painful memories and deeply felt guilt made this house nearly intolerable to Harry. Several times during his isolation, Crookshanks had found his fur dampened by Harry's quiet tears, but the cat had remained with him. He'd asked Crookshanks all the questions he had asked himself during his time with the Dursleys. Questions about death, about what it meant to be dead. Questions about fate, about destiny and whether destiny could be changed. Crookshanks could offer no reply except a soft meow or a comforting, rumbling purr.

Dinner was a strained affair, with the Weasleys all showing signs of the tension they were under. Ron barely spoke, and then only to Harry. Ginny bravely tried to keep a conversation going, but failed. As soon as the meal finished, Harry escaped upstairs with Hermione's tray. He heard Ron enter the bedroom and slam the door.

Hermione had awoken at the slamming, and was a bit hungry. She ate lightly and then chatted quietly with Harry about nothing in particular. Harry did let her know about the Weasleys' argument and Ron's anger. Her expression showed concern, but also disdain at Ron's antics.

"Honestly! No wonder they don't treat him more like a grown man. He'll have to show some maturity sometime if he wants them to change." Harry felt he should defend Ron's position, since facts were being withheld from their red-haired friend, but Hermione had snuggled back down with an exhausted expression, so Harry held his peace on the matter.

After returning the tray and dishes back the kitchen, Harry carefully opened the door to the bedroom that he shared with Ron. The steady snoring from Ron seemed genuine, so Harry undressed quietly before slipping into his own bed. The last time they had stayed in this room together flashed through Harry's mind, with all the pain and anguish that Harry had felt made fresh once more. _At least I don't have to fear that Voldemort wants to possess me this time_, he thought. Still, Harry wished that he could know what it would be like to be free of the fears and expectations. To be anyone but Harry Potter.

On the front page of the Daily Prophet the next morning was the grinning visage of a handsome boy of around nineteen years with a Nimbus 2001 broom over his shoulder. The boy's image waved cheerfully at Harry. Under the picture scrolled the legend: _Benji Looping, the new Seeker of the Tornados._ TTT The front page of the Prophet annoyed Harry a great deal, because not a single line was about the attack at St Mungo's yesterday. Instead there was just this silly guy and all the other mindless gossip that abounded in the Wizarding World.

Turning away from the paper irritably, he saw the flame-red hair that belonged to Ginny Weasley. She seemed to be adopting some of Hermione's daily morning habits; she intently read her own copy of the paper as she ate. Harry forced down a bit of his porridge and a couple slices of toast, but nothing else. In the kitchen, the mood was still as tense as the night before, with angry glances still being exchanged between the elder Weasleys and their youngest son. Hermione was still too weak to come downstairs for breakfast, or so she had said.

The atmosphere in the room did not lighten as the meal continued. Harry kept glancing over at Ginny expecting to see someone else in her place. Ron did not seem keen to talk to anyone this morning, not even Harry. Harry assumed the argument between Mr and Mrs Weasley and Ron had been quite intense since the dark feelings had not even begun to subside.

"Ginny, would you be so kind as to bring Hermione her breakfast?" Mrs Weasley said firmly. The shock of hearing her voice caused both Harry and Ginny to jerk in their seats. Ginny was quick to take the opportunity to escape.

"Of course, Mum!" she said happily as she laid her paper down and jumped to her feet to take the prepared tray Mrs. Weasley held out to her.

"Isn't she allowed to get her breakfast herself?" Ron asked sharply.

Harry looked in astonishment from Ginny to Ron then back to Ginny, who just shrugged as their eyes met.

"No, she's not coming down today, Ron." Mrs Weasley answered in the same sharp tone. "If you haven't noticed, she is still suffering from being cursed. Hermione is a strong girl, but not invulnerable."

"Oh, that's rich. Like you even care!" Ron snapped back. Mrs Weasley's face paled ominously as she lowered her voice, "Don't take that tone with me, young man."

Ginny gathered some pumpkin juice for the tray and left the kitchen quietly. Harry watched her departure with a wistful look. If only he could escape as easily as she had done. He had never been witness to such unguarded emotion from the Weasley family and it was becoming distinctly disturbing to Harry. As Harry glanced about for anything to distract the pair, he observed both of their faces were flushing a bright red as tempers roused.

"Bloody Hell, Mum!. Why can't you accept that I can decide myself now? I'm sixteen years old!" Ron exploded with rage from his chair.

"You are not of age, Ronald Weasley! I'm your mother and I do care what happens to you!" Mrs Weasley's eyes were bright with unshed tears that made Harry squirm inside with discomfort.

"C'mon Ron, let it be, won't you? Your mother's just worried for you. What's wrong with that?" Harry asked.

His face even redder than before, Ron now turned on Harry. "Who asked _you_? Who asked you for your opinion? How…how dare you – "

"Ron! Stop this at once! Harry, I think you should go up to your room. Dumbledore should be here to see you very soon," Mrs Weasley interrupted Ron hurriedly. Harry glanced at Ron as he stood up and left the kitchen, with a worried feeling that there was more to Ron's anger than just his parents' protectiveness.

As the green-eyed wizard climbed the stairs to the second floor, he realized that he had no idea what had happened yesterday between the Weasleys and their son. This bothered Harry a lot. He entered his room and found Dumbledore was already waiting for him. The tall figure of his Headmaster stood in front of the windows looking out over the somewhat seedy looking neighbourhood of Grimmauld Place.

"I just had a little chat with Miss Granger, and she informed me what colour light this curse had. I'm more than a little bit concerned about our young lady. You know, Harry, that her parents are still in a fragile state, but Hermione refuses to admit any particular weakness stemming from her attack."

Without a pause, Dumbledore continued as Harry sank onto the edge of his bed, stricken by the elderly wizard's words. "We both know she is stubborn, but in this case, this attribute could cause her harm. I'm afraid that she seems to be shutting out all of her normal fears and turning inward with an almost manic edge. Now is the time when her true friends must support and sustain her."

Dumbledore finished speaking, and turned slowly to watch the younger man.

"I know, sir," Harry said quietly as he gazed down at his hands, clasped loosely at his knees.

Light limned Dumbledore's figure as he came forward to place his hand on Harry's shoulder. Silence filled the room for an endless moment, then Dumbledore made a slight gesture and the lock on the door snibbed[0] with a loud click.

"Let us begin, Harry."

* * *


	8. Locked up

**Author-Note: **

I would like to thank **DadofHermyGinny** for his betaing this chapter. Now I know it had been a long time I did update and well I can't tell you when I'll update again. I'm really sorry there that this story need so much time. Four months are a long time but don't think I haven't written anything because I have like you see this chapter and another one. Currently I'm working on chapter nine right now. Anyway I thank you for reading this.

**Phoenixwriter**  
  
**_Chapter 7: Locked up_**  
  
No matter how often Harry had done this before, it continued to be unbelievably hard for him to empty his mind of all worry. Pictures of his past, and of his loss, haunted him once again as he rested on his knees, panting heavily, and tried to get his strength back. By now, his forehead was covered in a faint film of sweat.  
  
Harry could taste salt on his lips as he stood up from the floor with difficulty. Not far away from him  
stood Dumbledore, watching him intensely, as if to find an answer - as if to figure out if Harry already  
had this power. As Harry lifted his wand once more, he could see that it shook slightly.  
  
"Enough for today, Harry. We will practice further tomorrow. Remember to empty your mind before you go to sleep. Voldemort now knows that he can reach you if your mind isn't guarded well enough. Occlumency is the only magic that will keep your mind and your feelings safe. For your own sake, you must master Occlumency as soon as possible." Dumbledore looked deeply into Harry's eyes.  
  
Harry nodded slightly. This was what Snape had told him just a few months ago.

"The last few weeks I didn't dream much." He cleared his throat as he tried to remember how this week's dreams had been. "Except for the night the Grangers were attacked." Before he knew it, he told Dumbledore about the dream.  
  
It was still so very clear in his mind - he could still hear the screams of agony. As Harry ended his  
story, the old wizard seemed to be in deep thought about something that Harry couldn't quite understand.

"It couldn't - it couldn't be that Voldemort _wanted_ me to see this, could it? I mean, in this dream about Sirius he was there, too. He was always there in some way." Unbeknownst to Harry, his voice quivered slightly as the reason behind the dream became more and more clear.  
  
"Voldemort wanted you to see his Death Eaters torture and kill the Grangers, but something prevented it," Dumbledore explained. "Something happened this time so that the plan failed. This would explain why his Death Eaters didn't perform the killing curse. As you woke up, the connection between you and Voldemort was lost. That is probably the only reason why the Grangers aren't dead now", Dumbledore explained, with a knowing twinkle in his eyes.  
  
As he heard this, Harry felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. Now he knew that only he was truly to blame. If only he had practiced Occlumency. If he had mastered it months ago, the Grangers would never have been attacked in the first place. He felt so foolish and stupid for letting this happen.  
  
"Voldemort's main goal will be to become powerful again", continued Dumbledore. "He will continue to gain power like never before, because he realizes that you must have a power which he does not know. I am afraid that the next months will be no easier than the past one. You are almost an adult, and therefore you must learn to duel. I certainly know that you duelled with Voldemort, but you must be even more prepared and know every trick in order to be successful in the end. Mastering Occlumency is a small step, but is the very basis of what you must learn. In our next meeting, we will discuss this matter further, and talk about who will teach you." Calmly, Dumbledore went on as though he hadn't recognized Harry's painful expression.  
  
Harry was dimly aware of Dumbledore saying his good-byes and leaving him in his room alone. His first Occlumency lesson with the greatest wizard of the century had turned out to be one of the most unpleasant hours of his life. It just couldn't be possible that the Grangers had been attacked only because Voldemort knew he could reach Harry's mind. It didn't seem right - after all, the Order had known for almost a full year that the Dark Lord was back, and after Harry. Why hadn't there been anybody guarding the Grangers' safety? Why had nobody prevented all of this?  
  
Harry shook his head to get rid of all these unreasonable thoughts. This had become his ritual in the past weeks since Sirius had fallen through the veil. As Harry moved slowly toward the windows, he could feel his temper rising. With an empty mind, he narrowed his eyes and stared through the glass. He could see a slight reflection of his glasses in the windows. The sky was grey and dark, although it wasn't at all late. To the contrary - lunchtime wasn't far away. On the horizon, Harry saw a brown owl flying in his direction. Just as he was about to open the windows for it, it turned slightly and landed on the windowsill outside of Ginny and Hermione's room. Nobody opened the window, and the owl sat there for several minutes.  
  
Without a second thought, Harry opened his windows. Before long, the owl flew over to him and allowed him to unfasten the letter. On a white envelope was written the name "Hermione Granger" in deep blue ink. On the back side of the envelope was a slightly lighter blue seal with a coat of arms. Harry knew he had seen this coat of arms somewhere before, but couldn't quite place it. He turned the letter over, but could only see Hermione's name. This was quite unusual, as official letters addressed there had always indicated where the owl should deliver it - yet this only had a name.  
  
He slowly made his way out of the room and went down the stairs to the next landing. He heard his name, and turned to see Ginny coming up the stairs.  
  
"There you are! I was just about to call you for lunch", she said as she reached him. She saw the envelope in Harry's hands.  
  
"What is it?", she asked, and took it out of his hands.  
  
"Just a letter for Hermione", Harry answered with a tight throat, as he watched Ginny's face darken.  
  
"It's from the Ministry", Ginny said. To Harry's amazement, she put the envelope in her back pocket. He stared at her for seconds before opening his mouth. "Don't you think Hermione should read it?"  
  
She shook her head slightly as she gestured to him to follow her downstairs. "When I brought her breakfast, she told me that she wanted to be left alone. All she told me was that she needed time to think. I don't know, but I think that what happened to her parents is still bothering her greatly."  
  
"She shouldn't be left alone", Harry whispered urgently to Ginny. She just sighed and shook her head. The gesture was starting to annoy Harry.  
  
"Hermione locked the door after I left. I think all she needs is time to figure this out. You know how she is, Harry", Ginny said quietly as they finally entered the kitchen.  
  
To Harry's great surprise, Mr. Weasley was sitting along with Mrs. Weasley and Ron. He gave Harry a faint smile.  
  
"Harry, good to see you. I just came over to tell you that you might want to come along with Hermione to see Minister Fudge. He wishes to hear all about the attack firsthand." Harry sat down next to Ron, who was eating his sandwich without saying a single word.  
  
"When are we meeting Fudge?", Harry asked.  
  
"Tomorrow at 8:00 am, at the Ministry." Mr. Weasley looked questioningly at Harry before adding, "I thought Hermione got a letter from Fudge?"  
  
Harry continued chewing his sandwich.  
  
"She hasn't read her letter yet, Dad. She's spent most of the day sleeping", explained Ginny. Harry looked at her, saw her nod slightly to her mother, and understood. Mrs. Weasley had always fussed over them a great deal, but with Voldemort returning to power, her fussing had, if possible, increased.  
  
Time passed slowly. Mrs. Weasley had insisted that they needed to clean even more rooms, and the third landing wasn't done yet. It wasn't until evening that a very tired Harry entered the room that he shared with Ron, who had been strangely quiet all day. Just as Harry started to change, the door slammed shut, and Ron was standing in the room, red-faced.  
  
"Tell me what's going on, Harry!", Ron demanded through gritted teeth.  
  
Harry had a sudden urge to not tell Ron what had really happened, so Ron would know how it had felt for Harry to spend all those weeks alone at Privet Drive last year without a clue.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about", said Harry casually as he changed into his pajamas.  
  
"I know damn well that you know more than I do about the attack at the Grangers. What are you playing at, acting like Mom and Dad? Come on - tell me what happened that night!", Ron shouted angrily.  
  
"Maybe you should ask your parents. They might tell you more", Harry shrugged, as he finished putting on his pyjamas. "I told you that they won't tell me anything", shouted Ron. "They're acting like I'm a bloody child. If you must know, they even forbade me to go to Hogsmeade this year!"  
  
"Oh, I'm so very sorry for you, Ron", Harry said sardonically.  
  
"Are you going to tell me anything?", Ron roared, as he planted himself heavily on his bed.  
  
"No, I won't. Dumbledore made me swear I wouldn't. Good night." With this, Harry went to bed with an enormously satisfied feeling.  
  
Harry nodded off. In a dark room, only a beam of light illuminated a person kneeling on the dirty ground. Soon, Harry realized that he was in a prison, and the person looked rather filthy, and in a bad state. She was thin and very pale, and in front of her knees was a thick book. A slight muttering was heard from the woman, which sounded very familiar to Harry.  
  
"There has to be a counter-spell - there has to be..." She kept muttering her mantra.  
  
Slowly and uncertainly, Harry went around the woman, who appeared to be very young. She had long, uncombed, brown, filthy hair, which made her appear even more pale under her dirty skin. A sudden noise, which sounded suspicious, and the sound of rattling breathing and chains forced the woman to slam the book shut and look up for the first time.  
  
Her eyes had a look of pure terror, and Harry knew them so well. He was about to step closer and try to do something, but suddenly it was too late, and the scenery changed rapidly. He felt so very pleased with himself as he walked slowly down a dark corridor. At Harry's side was a man whose face he couldn't see. In the darkness, he could just hear his faint, low voice.  
  
"Master, everything works as planned. Dumbledore doesn't suspect a thing." Harry flexed his pale, long fingers slightly in pure glee. "Indeed, this will be a great day", he said in a cruel voice.  
  
Someone shook him roughly. "Wake up, Harry", a low voice said.  
  
He stirred abruptly and looked around, but only saw Mrs. Weasley standing by his bed. A few strains of daylight came through the windows as Mrs. Weasley turned away and left the room.  
  
Twenty minutes later, Harry left Ron and his snores alone and hurried down the stairs, for once finding the kitchen rather full. Mr. Weasley was absently eating a sandwich behind a copy of the Daily Prophet. Lupin was in a deep discussion with Bill and Mad-Eye Moody.  
  
Mrs. Weasley was busy trying to assure Tonks that she didn't need her help making breakfast. Sitting all alone, with a firm, pale face, and in dark blue clothes, was Hermione. She was absently picking at her plate, which was untouched. It looked as though she was someplace far away with her thoughts. Her hair was tied together in a knot that made her look older than she was.  
  
The expression and paleness of her face reminded Harry very much of their third year at Hogwarts. But this time it was different - it was caused by true illness and deep worry for her parents, rather than simply studying too much.  
  
"Ah, Harry dear, sit down and eat! We're in a bit of a hurry right now because the Portkey will be active in a few minutes." Mrs. Weasley bustled him over to a free place and set a plate of sausages and eggs in front of him. Slightly distracted, he sat down and looked across to Hermione, who hadn't even recognized him yet.  
  
"Um, well, why a Portkey? Last year, we went to the Ministry like Muggles", he asked, as he started to eat. Unlike last year, he was a bit more hungry.  
  
"Because it's too dangerous! No guard can guarantee our safety if Voldemort is lurking and waiting out there", Hermione snapped impatiently, as Mrs. Weasley winced slightly at the name.  
  
Unsure, Harry looked up, and found Hermione staring right back at him. It was not at all a pleasant morning. The atmosphere was tense, and Hermione's mood was anything but friendly, though silently, he understood why. Fudge was not the sort of person Harry wished to see again, and was most likely not a person to whom he'd wish to tell what Hermione had to tell.  
  
The Portkey was a usual one - this time, a wooden stick which Mad-Eye had used. They arrived directly in the hall of the Ministry, where the lifts were to be found. Nothing had changed since the last time Harry had been there. Just a few weeks ago, and a few meters away, Sirius had fallen through the veil.  
  
If Harry closed his eyes or just allowed himself to think about it, he heard and saw everything like an old dream replaying in his mind. As they stepped into the lift, he wondered absently if they hadn't been controlled.  
  
"Goodness, didn't you know? Since the Ministry has finally admitted that You-Know-Who is back, you can only arrive as a visitor via official Ministry portkeys, and only if Aurors are guarding you. They even took care of the phone-box after the attack at St. Mungo's", Tonks said as the lift started to move.  
  
Today, Tonks had short blue hair, which was the only thing that slightly lightened the mood. As Harry looked around and caught Hermione's eyes, he knew her thoughts were on the same day as his own. To his amazement, her eyes showed sympathy for him, and a sadness for the loss this place caused him. Each time the lift stopped, memos zoomed in and out. It wasn't long until the doors opened, and they saw Percy Weasley standing there, surrounded by Aurors.  
  
He didn't look at Mr. Weasley or Harry, but looked at Hermione. It was a bit bizarre, as he acted as if nothing had happened.  
  
Harry left the lift with Mr. Weasley at last, and with narrowed eyes followed Percy and the rest of his large group. To his satisfaction, he saw Hermione listening to Percy's encouraging talking with a deep frown, but this didn't seem to bother Percy much. Suddenly, Harry didn't know if he could hold back his temper if he met Fudge again - someone who had called him a liar and had made his life a hell, even at Hogwarts. Though feeling that something might go horribly wrong, and he might end up shouting at Fudge - Harry didn't feel that this was wrong at all. He might finally get what he wanted: answers.


End file.
